


Sleep on the Floor

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Darcy is basically a grown up six year old, F/M, Weird Sleep Habits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-19 17:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: The new security guy probably needs to know about Darcy's nightmare thing...for winchesterxgirlbased on this post:https://yespumpkindoodlesthings.tumblr.com/post/187745816788/thinkin-about-how-as-a-kid-i-was-afraid-to-sleep





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *I own nothing! This is the new tumblr prompts format from here on out.

“Darcy--my assistant--is great,” Jane told the new security guy firmly. She was trying to figure out how to broach a sensitive topic. Would he understand? What if he was mean? He didn’t look promising. He looked tough. And macho. Not sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Brock Rumlow said. He seemed to perk up a fraction. Jane studied his expression. “I just met her,” he added, smiling politely, she thought. “She was very funny. Personable.” Jane took a deep breath. 

“She--she has nightmares,” Jane said. “Ever since the Elves in London. And medications make her groggy, so she doesn’t take them at night.”

“Really? That’s too bad,” Rumlow said. “Very common, though. Lots of people have nightmares.”

“What I’m trying to say is that she sometimes comes into our room when she has nightmares,” Jane said. “Would it be too much of a bother if you slept there, so she can maintain her routine while Thor and I are on vacation?”

“You want me to sleep in the same bed as your assistant?” he said, looking stunned.

“Oh, no!” Jane said. “Darcy doesn’t sleep in the bed with us. She just sleeps on the floor. She won’t invade your personal space at all. She just feels more comfortable if she knows someone else is there and then she can go back to sleep.”

“On the floor?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Jane said, endeavoring to make this all sound normal. It was normal. Darcy just had anxiety. And everyone Jane knew had anxiety of some kind--Tony had serious PTSD, Thor mourned his losses, Steve felt out of place or guilty over Bucky. And Bucky. Poor Bucky sometimes looked absolutely lost. Darcy’s little sleep thing was no biggie. “It doesn’t happen often,” she told Rumlow. “It might not happen at all.”

“Okay,” he said in a calm voice. He looked over at Darcy, laughing with another SHIELD employee. “On the floor? Not in the bed?” he said, frowning.

“She brings blankets,” Jane said.

*** 

Darcy woke with a jolt. In her dream, she’d been falling and falling. She hated those dreams. Usually, they involved some interstellar monster stepping on her hand as she dangled somewhere high and dangerous, all too aware of her own death as she fell. She was sweaty and shaking now. It was difficult to shake the terrifying mental images that troubled her after these bad dreams. But tonight, she tried. She stared at the ceiling. She turned on the TV. She turned off the TV. Every time she closed her eyes, the nightmare images came back. Darcy sighed. The pleasant sound of Thor and Jane snoring was the thing that kept her calm. But they were gone. So, the new security guy was her only option. Darcy got up, seized her blankets, and marched determinedly to the bedroom. She was ready to knock gently on the doorframe when he spoke first. “Lewis?” Rumlow said, voice husky with sleep.

“Hi,” Darcy said. “I don’t know if--”

“You had a nightmare?” he said. His hair stuck out at all angles. 

“Yeah,” she said nervously. “Is it okay, if I--?”

“Sure, sure,” he said. Darcy moved to the side of the bed where ‘her’ rug was. A deep plush rug she’d picked out herself. She sank to the floor, fluffed her pillow, and arranged her blankets. “You need another pillow?” he said suddenly. She looked up. He was peering over the side of the bed at her, muscular arm extended. Darcy was momentarily surprised by his arm tattoos. They were visible in the dark tank top he was wearing. Her eyes drifted down his arm. The pillow was in his hand. 

“Thank you,” Darcy said, taking it. She lay down, scooting so she was half-under the bed. She heard the mattress move as he shifted onto his back. 

“Why under the bed?” he asked in the dark.

“I feel safe in small spaces,” she said. “Protected.”

“Yeah?” he said. “Wish I could feel safe like that.”

“Really?” Darcy said. He wiggled above her. Darcy looked at the bedframe.

“I, uh, was trapped during the building collapse. Don’t like confined spaces now,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said.

“S’all right, sweetheart. Helen Cho fixed me up. Nothing to complain about,” he said quietly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered. They were both quiet. The minutes ticked by. Darcy listened to the even sound of his breathing. He was a more gentle breather than Thor, she realized. She thought he’d fallen asleep. Darcy reached for the caramel candy she kept in her pajama pocket. The wrapper crinkled and she crunched on the candy. 

“Are you eating?” he said.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said. She sat up. He turned on the lamp and she blinked in the light. 

“You have food in there?” he asked, sounding like he wanted to laugh.

“Candy?” she offered. She held one out. 

“No, but thank you.”

“Okay.” He turned off the light again. “Night,” she said. It sounded more like “might” because of the candy.

“Lewis,” he said with a sigh. “Get in the damn bed with me.”

“Huh?” she said.

“I can’t just let you sleep on the floor,” he said.

“You want me to sleep with you?” she said. “No. That’s--that’s too, um, personal.”

“But sleeping under the bed and eating nonna candy like a weird gremlin, that’s not personal,” he said wryly.

“Shut up!” she said. She sat up and threw a candy at him.

“Ow. Are you pelting me with candy?” he said.

“You’re not being cool!” she said. 

“Okay, okay,” he said. “But there’s plenty of room in this bed. It’s a California King, for fuck’s sake. Five people could sleep here.”

“Ugh, fine,” Darcy said. She clamoured up, gathering her blankets and the pillows. She tossed them at the bed. He laughed. She went over to the other side of the bed and got in, huffing in frustration. “If I can’t sleep, I’m getting back on the floor.”

“That’s fine,” he said mildly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one's for me, because I wanted to write the morning after for the gremlin and her security guy. Based on this tumblr prompt: https://p-r-o-m-p-t-s.tumblr.com/post/187562432629/writing-prompt-403
> 
> “What do you mean you’re stuck in space?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

Darcy slept deeply. At one point, she woke up under Rumlow’s arm. He ran warm, like a space heater with muscles and good tattoos. But she didn’t have nightmares. It was probably the best sleep she’d had in years. Darcy burrowed in closer and shut her eyes. He sighed against her neck. The arm around her waist was very cozy. She felt him nuzzling in her hair, too. Maximum cozy, really, her brain registered dimly. She liked that.

She woke up a second time and realized she was alone in the bed. Sunlight filtered in through the window. Darcy heard noises. Rumlow must be up. She shuffled out to the kitchen. He was standing in front of the stove. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said. “You want pancakes?”

“You’re making pancakes?” she said. She was surprised.

“I found this stuff in your pantry,” he said. Her mix was on the counter. He flipped the pancake.

“Oh, that’s really nice,” Darcy said, feeling weirdly like they’d spent the night together. Technically, she guessed they had. She was drowsy and slightly confused. This was strange. That must be it.

“I don’t usually eat this stuff, but I had a craving,” he said. He looked around, then looked at her. “You sleep okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. He smiled. 

“Good,” he said, then looked away.

“Really well. I haven’t slept that well in years,” she admitted.

“Me neither,” he said, cutting his eyes at her and then moving them back to the pan. It was a little odd, she thought. His expression. “Pancakes, pancakes,” he muttered. “Where are your plates?” Darcy got them and set them on the counter at his side. She looked at the tattoo above his elbow. When he caught her looking, she went to the coffee pot.

“Do you want more coffee?” she asked. “Black, right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. Black. ” He moved a pancake to a plate. “This one’s yours, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” Darcy said.

“Do you think we could, uh, do this again?” he said. “Tonight?”

“Hmm?”

“The sleeping?” he offered. “I don’t usually sleep well...not anymore.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I could. I could sleep that well again. For sure.” They didn’t talk about it much, though. Instead, they did things by a mostly-unspoken agreement. Darcy went to her room, put on her comfiest pajamas and her glasses, then carried her blankets and pillows in the bedroom where Rumlow slept. Sometimes, he would be reading mission reports. Other times, he had the television on. He never watched her--he barely looked at her actually--as she padded over in her slippers. He kept his eyes on the screen while she sorted her pillows into a pile, spread out the blankets, and finally climbed under them. 

“Night,” she said, on the first evening.

“Night.” He leaned over and turn off the lamp or the TV. Darcy could almost feel the tension, but it ebbed away within a few minutes. She listened to the sound of his gentle breathing and fell fast asleep. The second night was even easier. 

“Goodnight,” she told him, as she slipped her feet under the blankets.

“Goodnight, Lewis,” he said. “You need another pillow?”

“No, I’m good.” She’d brought several pillows, including one shaped like a unicorn.

“Okay.” A pause. “Good.” She felt him shift slightly. She stretched out her toes and wiggled them. There was decent distance between them.

“Did you want my unicorn pillow?” she asked, unable to stop herself. She expected him to scoff. Make some show of his masculinity. But he surprised her. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Lemme see if this guy is all that special?”

“Okay,” she said, biting her lip. It was really difficult not to get the church giggles when you were curled up next to a former STRIKE Commander who was snuggling your unicorn pillow, but somehow, Darcy managed. She was tempted to take a selfie, too, but stopped herself. And if she woke up with a less than decent distance between them, neither mentioned it. Darcy just hit her snooze button for another fifteen minutes and settled back under his arm. She did wonder how she’d explain it all to Jane. Would Jane get it?

It was weird. 

But she did sleep really well. So did Rumlow, she thought. He looked alert, if a bit sheepish, in the mornings. Like he was a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar whenever she looked at him. At work, they were polite to one another. Somehow, he could anticipate her movements when she needed to shift Jane’s equipment. So, it was really smooth and seamless during the day, too. How funny, Darcy thought, as they walked back together from lunch, more than a week into their agreement. “You okay?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh, yeah,” Darcy said. “Just thinking about work stuff.”

“Work stuff,” he repeated.

“Yup.”

“You, uh, interested in Chinese for dinner?” he said. They’d just eaten lunch in pleasant silence, but she nodded anyway.

“Yup,” she repeated. They walked a few more feet. “I’ve been hungry a lot lately,” she added. “It’s kinda funny.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“I mean, I tend to snack, but I don’t usually wake up hungry,” she clarified.

“You should eat breakfast, though. That’s important,” he said, sounding serious.

“I’m really bad at it,” she said. “I never feel hungry until lunchtime. I forget to eat or I don’t have time...”

He started making her breakfast. Which was really sweet. He was making her a smoothie one morning when her cell phone rang. Darcy saw Jane’s name on the screen. “Hey,” she said brightly. “I’m doing great. How are you and Thor?” Then Jane’s next words registered and Darcy frowned. Brock stopped scooping protein powder into the blender and looked at her curiously.

“What do you  _ mean _ you’re stuck in space?” Darcy said. "For how long?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do we feel about organizing the tumblr prompts like this? So all the same 'verse stories are continuous? I kinda want the same 'verse stories to be all together, even if I dillydally between chapters and don't necessarily update them immediately...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Using @itsjaili's "This isn't what it looks like...but that part is" in another story, just for funsies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

Brock opened his eyes, saw a figure, and jumped. He had a hand on his gun already when he realized who it was. “Oh,” he said. “Hey.” He’d automatically shielded Darcy from the person in the doorway. The person who was Jane Foster. She grinned at them. 

“Guys?” she said. “What’s going on?”

“This isn’t what it looks like…” he said quickly, voice trailing off. 

“You’re in our bed?” Jane said wryly.

“....but that part is?” Brock said.

“We were just sleeping,” Darcy said. 

“I felt bad about her sleeping on the floor,” Brock said.

“Yes,” Darcy added. “He said he felt bad.”

“She was eating candy,” he explained. “Under the bed.”

“This all happened last night?” Jane said.

“Ummmm,” Darcy said.

“No.” Brock shook his head. “Not last night,” he said. “Before last night.”

“We’ve been sleeping in the bed--” Darcy said.

“Totally innocently. No sex,” Brock said. “Zero sex.”

“--since you left,” she told Jane.

“Uh huh,” Jane said. “Sure. A month ago. Well, I’m going to politely ask you to vacate so I can shower.”

“Oh, okay,” Brock said. Jane went into the bathroom. He heard the exhaust fan cut on and then her humming. A sleepy, messy-haired Darcy looked at him. 

“It’s four am,” she said, around a yawn.

“Yeah.”

“My bed?” she offered.

“Yeah,” Brock said, nodding. He’d never been in her bed before. She usually kept her bedroom door shut for privacy. He felt suddenly awkward as they went into the hallway. Thor was standing in the kitchen. 

“Hello, my sister, bedfellow,” Thor said.

“Hi, Thor-Bear,” Darcy said. “This is Brock.”

“Hello,” Brock said. Thor smiled brightly. He was wearing Jefferson Starship t-shirt. It was slightly disorienting. Norse Gods in the kitchen at near-dawn was definitely new. Brock followed Darcy into the other bedroom. Her room was cluttered and colorful. The bed was pushed against one wall.

“Your bed’s smaller,” he said.

“Queen,” she said, climbing in and shuffling aside some pillows, including his pal the unicorn. “I’ll take the wall side, okay?”

“Sure, Gremlin,” he teased. That was his nickname for her. “Get your stuff all ready.”

“Pfffffhhhht,” she said, using the unicorn to rest her chin. He crawled in next to her and Darcy sighed happily. Then she looked over her shoulder at him with an alarmed expression. “They won’t send you away, will they?”

“What?” he said. “Who?”

“Fury, he’ll take you back ‘cause Thor’s here now,” Darcy said, eyes wide.

“No,” he said. Brock shook his head. “He can’t,” he added. “Not possible.”

“What can we do to stop him?” Darcy wondered.

“I dunno, but I’ll figure it out,” he said. She snuggled back in, but gave him a dubious look. 

“You’re sure? Can’t he station you in, like, Tripoli or something?” Darcy said.

“Nothing’s going to stop us now,” he said seriously. She started to giggle. “What?” he said.

“You stole that from Thor’s t-shirt! It’s the _Mannequin_ movie song from the eighties,” Darcy said. “Oh God. I loved that movie when I was little.” She kept giggling. He shook his head.

“You’re sleep-drunk,” Brock told her. She hummed to herself. “Shh,” he scolded, but he squeezed her tighter. “But I’m not going any place, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” she said. Brock was half-asleep when he heard Darcy whisper to herself. “I’d miss you.” 

  


“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Rumlow said, a few days later, when Fury asked him to go to London for a special assignment. “Send Rollins.”

“You think you give the orders now, Rumlow?” Fury said.

“I’m not fit to travel,” Rumlow lied. “It’s my old injuries. I’m less flexible. My responses--”

“His fitness metrics are through the roof since Helen Cho treated him--” Maria Hill began.

“Traitor,” Brock said.

“--but he just doesn’t want to tell you that he’s been living with Jane Foster’s assistant and wants to stay with her,” Maria finished.

“Oh. Yeah,” Brock said, nodding. “I have.”

“Why haven’t you done your relationship disclosure forms?” Maria asked.

“I--uh--I,” he said. “We don’t have a relationship, we just sleep together.”

“Did I need to know that?” Fury asked.

“Not sleeping together that way, actual damn sleeping,” Brock said, irritated. “We just both have, uh, sleep problems?”

“Really?” Maria said.

“Yeah. It’s my job to protect her, Maria. You don’t screw your protected subjects. First rule.”

“So, you’ve just been sleeping?” she repeated. 

“Well, I mean, we watch movies together. Go to dinner, stuff like that. Grocery shop. Kinda like---”

“An old married couple?” Fury said wryly. “Put married on his forms, Hill. You’re dismissed, Rumlow.”

“Don’t joke,” Brock mumbled.

“I’ll send Rollins, you pain in my ass,” Fury said. “Because I am an old married man and I don’t like leaving town without the wife, either.”

“Thank you,” Brock said. When he and Hill went out into the hallway, he looked at her. “He has a wife?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“It’s not you, is it?” he said.

“Nope.” Her voice was crisp.

“Oh," Brock said.

He went downstairs to Foster’s lab and found Darcy sitting by her laptop. “Hi,” she said, smiling brightly. “How’d your meeting go?”

“Fine, Fury’s not sending me to London,” he said quietly.

“He was going to send you?” she said, looking panicked. 

“I’m not going,” he said.

“Did you just growl a little?” she asked, giving him a smile. 

“Maybe,” Brock said. He looked at her hands. She’d painted her nails with a glitter polish. Little stars. “Everybody thinks we’re a couple,” he said, swallowing.

“Oh,” Darcy said. The way she pressed her lips together was really endearing, he thought.

“Are we a couple?” he asked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“You can’t just put this on me!” Darcy said, scrunching her face at him. “Unfair, Brock Rumlow!”

“Wh-what?” he said. His train of thought had derailed somewhere around the phrase  _ put this on me. _

“So, I’m the one who has to be vulnerable first?” she said, grinning.

“No, I didn’t--” he began, but his sentence ended abruptly when she leaned over and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their foreheads touched. She was breathing on him, he realized. “Hey,” he said. Her mouth was so close. “I’m vulnerable. I’m vulnerable,” he said. 

“Sure,” she said. She smiled a little.

“I am,” he insisted. He made a pouting face at her playfully. They sometimes made faces at each other in the dark. Especially when one or the other had trouble sleeping. 

“Not the duckface!” she said. 

“You love the duckface,” he said, grinning. 

“I do,” she said, voice quiet. “I really do.” Her expression was tender. 

“What do you want to do about it?” he asked, then added, “I don’t want to rush you--” 

“Let’s go home,” she said, reaching for her purse. “Jane, I have to run an errand.” Jane had been engrossed in her work. “I’m leaving early.”

“Sure,” she said.

“Will she remember you said that?”

“I’ll leave a note for Thor,” Darcy said.

  
  


She kept looking at him on the trip home. He’d smiled like an idiot the whole time. Also, his heart rate was possibly fatal, if it kept racing like this. Brock hoped Helen Cho’s work held long enough for him to sleep with Darcy at least once. He could hear her talking to herself in the bathroom as he waited for her. “Sweetheart,” he said, leaning his forehead against the door, “we don’t have to rush.”

She cracked the door open. “I’m a little nervous. You’re so, um, abs?” Her voice had gone up a little. He smirked.

“Abs, huh? You like those?”

“Don’t tease me,” Darcy said. “I’m sweating. I can feel the sweat.”

“Yeah, well, I keep thinking about that fucking Spanish movie where the poor guy finally sleeps with the girl he’s been in love with for years and immediately drops dead,” he cracked. “Cause he’s burned out all his damn matches at one time--I can’t remember the name of the fucking movie. What?” he said. She was smiling at him.

“I know that one.  _ Like Water for Chocolate,”  _ she said. “I’m all your matches?” Her voice had gone up a little. He thought she was pleased. 

“Yeah--yeah,” he said, automatically rubbing the door frame a little with his palm. He caught himself, then grinned at her expression. She’d seen the way he gestured when he thought about her. Darcy opened the bathroom door wider and wrapped her arms around his neck. She had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him, craning her neck back. He did the instinctive thing: he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He liked the sound she made when he took his clothes off. It was something between a shriek of delight and a gasp. He wanted her to make that sound again. Lots of times. 

  
  


“So,” he said. “This is what it’s like?” They’d ended up on the floor of her room, naked and wrapped in the sheets. He was half-under the bed now. Her bedrame was in his sightline.

“Yup,” she said, curling up against his free side. “You’re sure you’re okay? No claustrophobia?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. He was. “This is kinda nice.” It was oddly soothing, he thought. “Like being a kid again or something?”

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s good,” he said, turning his head to smile at her. 

“I should get a rug for here, if you want to do this more,” she added, sounding thoughtful. “I’m worried you have carpet burns.” He laughed.

“It’s very nice that you’re more worried about that than about my naked ass on your carpet, baby,” he said. She shrugged.

“It’s a rented apartment.” 

“You got any of that grandma candy?” he asked.   
  



End file.
